


The Only Way Through the Dark

by gazeteur



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-TLJ, TLJ Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 16:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gazeteur/pseuds/gazeteur
Summary: They didn't mean to fight.Not really, at least for Rey. But at the end of a long day—one of many—something about the scathing tone of his voice made her lash out with a fist, before it was caught in a gloved hand.And their encounters have unfolded in this way since.——Hand-to-hand forcebond sparring and words warring, because reasons.





	The Only Way Through the Dark

They didn't mean to fight.

Not really, at least for Rey. But at the end of a long day—one of many—something about the scathing tone of his voice made her lash out with a fist, before it was caught in a gloved hand.

And their encounters have unfolded in this way since.

This time she is sequestered in one of the cargo holds on the  _Millennium Falcon_ _,_ the door lock across the room engaged with the Force the moment she felt his presence tug on the bond between them. Rey doesn't question this anymore; closing the spaceship door was one thing, but another was, perhaps, a part of her knows she will be inextricably linked to him.

The very sensation of sparring through the bond is... unsettling. Rey feels every blow distinctly before the pain falls away, becoming an echo that is lost to the stars. Somehow, the lack of lasting wounds spurs her to hit harder. She found it easier to talk this way, after what happened during the fight in the throne room. 

When it is just the two of them like this, the intermittent squeaks and groans of the _Millennium Falcon_ fade away. She can't see his surroundings, only him and his movements. And a little bit more, ghosts of darkened interiors that cling like shadows to him.

"Something bothering you?" The first words out of his mouth this time is a taunting sneer.

Rey lets his words roll over her like an inconsequential tide, fingers flexing one by one, feeling the taut energy strung through them. "Why did you come back?" she says instead, ducking a punch and sidestepping his entire form when his centre of balance is compromised. _Why are we doing this, still?_

"They would never understand, you know.” A brisk turn of his head to indicate all of this. The sparring, the conversations that go nowhere, or in circles. She isn't sure if he is reading her mind or dodging her questions like he does her punches. 

"There is nothing to understand," Rey snaps, too quickly. Despite the cramped quarters of the Falcon and the close proximity with everyone, some part of her heart has felt hollow. She has not told anyone about this— _all of this,_ as he's quick to point out _—_ not even to Finn.

Her response becomes his fuel. It straightens his spine and thins the line of his lips. Something still bothers him, clearly, a tic in the line of his jaw when she brushes past him. They circle each other, panting.

He strikes first.

"Still running away.”

A hit on her arm, reduced to a glance when it's deflected with her other hand.

“And still on that scrap of junk."

Rey drops low, and then away to narrowly avoid a fist. But it’s too close. She gasps when he grabs her by the shoulder.

"Is that what you rebels call hope?" Without pause the fist devolves into a hand thrown towards her side of the room. 

Rey flicks her eyes away from him for the briefest moment: taking in the sight of crates pushed together and to the edges of the room serving as makeshift bunks, blasters sitting atop of a table long overdue for replacements which she's meant to rewire. So he could see more of her surroundings than she thought. 

But he isn't looking at anything else, only at her. Everything else about his face is a restrained, placid mask, undone by the intensity of his gaze. 

Ignoring the lurch in her chest, she inhales, holds it for a second, and twists deftly out of his grasp.

Turning back to him, Rey raises her chin in defiance. "This is the side I want to be on."

"You're still running away from what you are." There is a rawness to his voice that speaks equally to both a strength and a weakness.

_You need a teacher._

_You're not alone._

_Join me._

“Ben,” she says quietly. Rey watches as his impassive expression is wiped away by a flinch. “It's not too late." Inhaling, she regains her stance and pushes ahead, keeping her footwork tight.

They clash once more; he scoffs as he dodges her hits, like they’re nothing at all.

Gradually she advances and corners him, until he has retreated halfway across the room. It's not important for her to win this spar, she realises. Only for her words to hit as hard as she is now, for them to mean  _something._

He's not pushing back. Rey discovers this belatedly—too many steps into her offence—when, instead of countering, he wraps a hand around her wrist, unbalancing her and pulling her close.

"It's not too late for you, too." There is a tremor around the edges of his words, from exertion or an ever-present rage or both.

Rey is close enough to see the scar tracking down his cheek, now faint, and feel the exhalation of his words brush against her ear. She cannot look away. Her lips part as she musters a retort —

"Rey? Rey!"

A familiar voice, dampened by distance, cuts into her thoughts. Rey takes it: throwing a hand with the Force to unlock the door of the hold.

They do not so much break apart as allow the connection to fray between them. His presence dissipates long before the door has retracted fully; left with nothing to brace upon, Rey falls to her knees panting.

Footsteps and then, a weight on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

It takes Rey a moment to see Finn's face looming in front of her, eyes looking into hers questioningly but never suspiciously. 

Rey feels the surge of irritation along the force, familiar yet subdued. Without thinking she rubs at the still-warm point on her forearm where Ben’s iron-tight grip was seconds before. So he's still here—not quite gone, but not quite in her field of vision either. She wonders why.

"Yeah," she says, bracing a hand against Finn's—ignoring another red-hot twinge that scampers along the line that confirms her suspicions—as she stands. “Just… training."

“Oh, I thought—” Finn pauses, glancing around the room before shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Rey doesn’t look back. If it is not this time, she thinks mutely, then it shall be another. Instead she allows Finn to lead her away from the dimly lit hold and into the hallway, where he is quick to fill her in on the things he and Rose—is that her name, the Resistance hero who went with Finn to Canto Bight?—have gotten up to in the  _Falcon_.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Reylo and I feel this is... less intense than I would've liked? Also this piece just ran away from me, word count-wise. Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
